


star to every wandering bark

by hihoplastic



Series: The Worst Witch Tumblr Prompts [7]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihoplastic/pseuds/hihoplastic
Summary: Pippa has seen many stunning things in her life. The northern lights, the Mona Lisa, the sparkling blue-green ocean off the Amalfi Coast. She’s seen sunshine through the rain and lovers’ morning smiles and the night sky speckled with more stars than she could ever imagine. She’s seen fire dance to music and flowers bloom to the sound of her voice and looked upon the joy of children but none of it prepares her for this, for the moment she meets Hecate’s eyes across the circle.





	star to every wandering bark

**Author's Note:**

> \- for @queenology, who requested "hecate/pippa + you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen"  
> \- title from Shakespeare's "Sonnet 116"  
> \- I used [this site](http://offbeatbride.com/pagan-weddings/) and [this one](https://allseasonsweddings.com/wedding-ceremonies-readings/wican-pagan-wedding-ceremonies) as reference for the ceremony.

Pippa has seen many stunning things in her life.

The northern lights, the Mona Lisa, the sparkling blue-green ocean off the Amalfi Coast. She’s seen sunshine through the rain and lovers’ morning smiles and the night sky speckled with more stars than she could ever imagine. She’s seen fire dance to music and flowers bloom to the sound of her voice and looked upon the joy of children but none of it prepares her for this, for the moment she meets Hecate’s eyes across the circle.

She’s fairly certain she stops breathing, can’t hold on to any one thought, her heart thudding in her chest as Hecate smiles at her faintly - nervous, but so, so happy - and looks at her with more love and devotion than Pippa knows what to do with.

Everything melts away. The music, their friends and family, the twinkling lights suspended around them. There’s only Hecate, in a dark gown far more elaborate than her usual, the train long, the sleeves wide and loose around her hands.  It looks black from a distance, but when the light catches the silk beneath the lace, it shimmers green, matches the twilight through the trees around them. Her hair is down, wild around her head, small, white flowers laced throughout that match the crown Pippa wears on her own head.

It brings tears to her eyes, as she knew it would. Hecate had teased her the night before— _Is there any chance you’ll make it through the ceremony without crying?_ —and Pippa had laughed, shaken her head and kissed Hecate’s cheek.  _Doubtful._

Hecate smiles at her now, like she knows what she’s thinking, a private smile just for her and just for them and as much as she’s looked forward to this day for months, if she doesn’t get to kiss her wife in the next three minutes she very well might ruin everything.

 _Wife,_ she thinks, and feels her eyes prick again and her cheeks ache from smiling and finally,  _finally,_  Hecate is in front of her, close enough that Pippa can see the sheen in Hecate’s own eyes, and she giggles softly.

“Not you too,” she whispers, letting a tear streak down her face, nearly whimpering when Hecate raises a hand and gently brushes it away.

The officiant—an old friend of Pippa’s father—clears her throat delicately and smiles. Pippa tries to pay attention to the words, she does, but she can’t tear her eyes away from Hecate, can’t think of anything besides how lucky she is, how blessed, how eager to start this new chapter of their lives, together.

Sometimes she can’t believe they made it. Can’t quite fathom that she’s here, that for all the years between them, for all the people in the world, Hecate chose _her._ Chose her long ago, Hecate had admitted once, curled up in front of the fireplace, Pippa’s head in her lap as Hecate brushed her fingers through her hair.

She’d worn the same tender look then that she does now, almost a decade ago, when they’d first begun again.

She’s dimly aware of the officiant, asking for blessings, and her mother’s teary-eyed reply, “She comes with her father, mother, and siblings, and is accompanied by all her family’s blessings.”

The same is said on Hecate’s side, and Pippa’s heart clenches briefly; Hecate has no family, not in the traditional sense, but Ada smiles so warmly, so tenderly at Hecate, Pippa thinks perhaps it’s even better.

“She comes with her friends and family,” Ada says, “and is accompanied by all our blessings.”

Pippa watches as Hecate smiles waveringly at Ada, a silent thank you, a trust and love between them Pippa is so grateful for. Her eyes dart briefly around the circle, sees Dimity and Miss Bat and Mr. Rowan Webb, and of course, Mildred. Older now, still lanky and awkward, but more sure of herself. It had been Hecate’s request, the only person besides Ada she’d actively suggested, and Pippa couldn’t have said no even if she’d wanted to.

She hadn’t, of course—they had Mildred to thank in part, and Pippa’s grown fond of the young woman over the years, the way she’s kept in touch with Hecate, her effusive letters that always make Hecate sigh and shake her head but that she never fails to answer.

Mildred is grinning now, nearly bouncing on her toes with excitement, and it makes Pippa smile wider.

Smile, and smile, until she feels like she’ll never stop.

The ceremony is at once too short and too long.  The officient’s words are beautiful, and Pippa wants to savor them; but she also wants to wrap Hecate up and kiss her and touch her and  _love her_  so terribly she feels fit to burst from it. She wants to tell her how she feels, wants to shout it to the world, and finally,  _finally,_  the officiant holds out the long cord and gestures for their hands. Hecate’s are cold, as always, and Pippa brushes her thumb over the back of Hecate’s hand and squeezes tight.  

“As your hands are joined, so are your lives,” the officiant says, wrapping the cord around their wrists.

It’s Pippa’s cue, and every carefully rehearsed word leaves her head. She can’t think of anything she’d meant to say, the heartfelt vows she’d slaved over for months, the ones she’d begun writing in her head long before she’d asked and Hecate, breathless, had said yes. None of them come to her now, just the same thought, over and over, the one she doesn’t quite mean to say but means instead with her whole heart,

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Hecate flushes, as she always does, and ducks her head, eyes on their hands.

“I know you don’t believe me when I tell you that,” Pippa continues, “But it’s true. You’re beautiful when you’re angry and beautiful when you’re sick; you’re beautiful when you’re grouchy with me in the morning before you’ve had your tea. You’re beautiful when you’re excited about something, and when you’re sad, but when you’re happy…” Pippa shakes her head. “When you’re happy I think there must be something beyond beautiful. Because it’s not just what you look like, it’s  _you_. All of you. And when you look at me like I’m the only thing that matters, I—” Her voice breaks, and she sniffles, laughing softly at herself. “I’m just so excited to be yours.”

Hecate is near tears, but unlike Pippa, she doesn’t let them fall. Her eyes are bright and damp, and where Pippa’s voice was strong and bold, Hecate’s is quiet, so soft and low Pippa is certain only she and the officiant can hear her.

“You are my everything,” she says, voice wavering.  “You always have been. And I am—” She inhales shakily, and Pippa feels Hecate’s hands trembling in hers. She squeezes them tightly, smiles as bright as she can, encouraging and warm.  “I am honored,” Hecate says finally, “to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She says nothing more—Pippa can tell it’s too much for her, too many emotions, too much attention—but it’s enough, so, so enough.

The officiant announces they are now bound to each other, and Pippa lurches forward before she can even untie their hands, kissing her wife—her  _wife_ —with every ounce of love and then some.

Hecate sways but steadies her easily, an unbound hand gentle on her hip where Pippa’s is pressed to Hecate’s cheek.

“I love you,” Pippa whispers, and she feels Hecate shudder, moves to kiss her again and is surprised when Hecate stops her, pushing lightly at her hip.

Pippa tries not to frown when Hecate raises their hands to the officiant to be unbound. She knows Hecate isn’t fond of public displays, but thought perhaps their wedding day might be an exception.  She tries not to feel disappointed, and then, in the same moment, tries to breathe when Hecate dips her head and removes the timepiece from around her neck.

She doesn’t say a word, just stares at Pippa and Pippa stares back as Hecate carefully places the watch around Pippa’s neck.

They hadn’t talked about this. The giving of jewelry seemed unnecessary, as they’d exchanged rings years before, a promise just for them, and Pippa feels her heart skip beats as Hecate slips her hair out from under the chain, fingers trailing down to the watch now against her chest.

Pippa’s sight blurs and her hands shake as she curls her fingers into the fabric of Hecate’s gown, her voice choked and barely audible.  “Hiccup—”

Hecate leans forward and kisses Pippa’s forehead, the gesture so sweet, so intimate, Pippa forgets about the people still watching, forgets the sun is setting, forgets everything except the weight of the watch and the softness of Hecate’s lips on her skin.

“I knew you couldn’t make it through without crying,” she says softly, pressing her forehead to Pippa’s.

Pippa lets out a watery laugh, a hand on Hecate’s back urging her closer. “You cheated.”

“I won,” she says softly, her smile luminous as she brushes the tears from Pippa’s cheeks.

“No, Hiccup,” Pippa murmurs, slipping her hand into Hecate’s hair.  “We both did.”


End file.
